


Just Like Heaven

by Space_Cadet_Blues



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Ficlet, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Making Love, Porn with Feelings, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2019-05-08
Packaged: 2020-02-28 17:14:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18760852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Space_Cadet_Blues/pseuds/Space_Cadet_Blues
Summary: Sometimes Hank envies them. Their connection. But mostly he's glad to have them. Glad that they can be with each other like this.





	Just Like Heaven

Angels. The word is most prominent in Hank's mind as he watches Sixty, cool and calm place a hand between Connor's shoulder blades and press. Connor bends, cheek resting on forearms, hips in the air and chest brushing the sheets.

Sixty's hair obscures his eyes for a moment as he tips slightly forward, but Hank can see the upwards tilt of his lips as his hands caress Connor's hips.

He pulls soft sweet sounds from Connor as he sinks into him, lips now parted in an 'o' of silent pleasure.

Connor's nipples are peaked and sensitive and Sixty knows to touch them. Knows just how to rub and pinch until Connor is rocking back onto him, breathless as though he needs oxygen.

Sixty's body undulates slow and lazy like the ebb and flow of the tide. His hands wander, taking in every inch of skin, his lips press wherever they can reach. Connor's skin recedes where they touch, bleeding back to show vulnerable white.

Angels.

Hank's hands clutch the arms of the chair but he waits.

Forever at their mercy.

When Sixty pulls out to change position Connor whimpers and reaches back.

Sixty's insistent hands push him onto his side and he leans over, pressing his lips sweetly to Connor's. Eyelashes fluttering dark against light freckled skin.

When he breaks away he doesn't go far, holding eye contact with Connor as he moves him onto his back.

Connor trembles, looking at though he might start sobbing if Sixty doesn't get back inside him soon.

Sixty whispers something against his lips that Hank doesn't hear and Connor nods. Their foreheads press together and Connor lays a hand at the back of Sixty's neck, fingers scratching through the hair at his nape.

Connor's legs fall open and Sixty moves closer. Hank doesn't see it when Sixty re-enters him but Connor's body reacts, synthetic muscles in his stomach and thighs quivering. His simulated breathing stutters. Body arching and eyes shutting tightly.

He whines and Sixty shushes him, cupping his cheek and brushing a thumb over the jut of bone.

Connor's eyes open and they watch each other, gaze heavy with so many things.

Sometimes Hank envies them. Their connection.

But mostly he's glad to have them. Glad that they can be with each other like this.

Sixty's hips work harder, faster. Connor is whimpering, whispering sweet things in between hot heavy kisses.

When he comes Sixty's teeth graze the corner of his mouth and his skin bleeds back once more to heighten their connection.

A sound escapes him, short and sharp. Pain and pleasure.

Sixty laps the mess off of his chin and continues, keeping close, letting Connor cling and whisper encouragement.

Connor's fingers pull at his hair and curl against his synthskin, his teeth catch Sixty's lower lip and that seems to do it.

His hips stutter. He spills inside of Connor who groans at the feeling of being filled.

They kiss and touch and murmur to each other out loud and through their connection. LEDs blinking yellow.

Hank feels privileged. Like he just witnessed some kind of secret, sacred ritual.

He's lucky he thinks. Lucky to be in the presence of angels.


End file.
